


Old Town Road

by ultravioletflames



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Billy Hargrove Being an Asshole, Billy Hargrove Redemption, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, M/M, Past Abuse, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, Psychological Trauma, Sexual Content, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-19 00:04:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20321761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultravioletflames/pseuds/ultravioletflames
Summary: In the wild west, Steve Harrington, facing a past full of nightmares, feels like he's just trying to fill his father's too big shoes. Then a mysterious cowboy he can't seem to escape shows up and makes everything worse. Until he doesn't.





	Old Town Road

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys. This is my first serious work. I'm definitely not a writer and I definitely also don't have a beta sooo... Lets hope for the best here. Anyway uh, I don't gotta schedule for this, but hopefully I can get it all out. I'm a big fan of Western stuff as I am very Texas. My great great grandpa was an outlaw who even had a cool outlaw name. Also billy in a cowboy hat would be scrumptious. That's why I'm doing this. Peace! Enjoy!

-1864-

It was another blistering hot summer day in the southern town. The air feeling crisp and dusty against his skin, as his cow hide boots scuff gently along the sand, covering over the hoof prints and cart tracks. Laughter and soft banjo music is heard from the people who are crowding the entryways of the bars, taking refuge from the relentless Texas sun under the shabby awnings.

Steve makes his way further into the town center, wiping the sweat from his neck with a well-worn cloth as he moves. He’s on a mission to collect some new fabrics that had just shipped in for his Ma. His Pa is coming back home in a weeks’ time and she told Steve she wants to be looking her very best. Psh. As if Pa is ever around long enough to care. Steve scoffs to himself. Lousy excuse for a father. Ever since Steve was a young boy, Pa would rather be working the rails than say, raise a son, or take care of his own ranch.

However, his father is undeniably a hard-working man. Came from a poorer settlement up north and decided to make a name for himself out in the wild west. At eighteen, he had traveled on horseback for weeks, braving the deadly nights and sweltering days with nothing but his name to him. Upon arriving, he got hitched with Steve’s Ma, a wealthy eastern-born lady, and started making bank in the rodeo. A few years down the line, he settled and opened up his ranch, as he now had quite the reputation and a fair amount of cash.

When Steve was born, his Pa had a sudden urge to make even more money than his ranch could. “_As man of the house, it’s my responsibility to keep you fed and clothed_,” he was always saying when Steve asked why he had to be gone. Pa left to manage the work on the railroads, and sometimes drive the locomotives. He left the ranch in the care of Steve, his wife, and a handful of payed workers, and would show back up for a couple weeks every so often.

Steve kicks at the dirt. Thinking about his father always leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. As he rounds a corner distractedly, he nearly topples over someone. He rights himself and looks down to apologize-

“Steve?! Hey! You’re in town!” It’s the seamstress’ kid, Dustin. Steve’s smile matches up to the kid’s as he realizes who it is that almost made him eat rocks.

“Henderson! I was actually just on my way to see your Ma. Mighty fine day to be in. Where you headed?”

“Steve, you wouldn’t believe it, I was on the way to stage an Indian raid on _you know who_ with Mike, Lucas, and Will. But I think they can wait a bit. I’ll come with you.” He yaps. Yeah. Sounds about right. Dustin is a strange kid, but Steve secretly appreciates that about him. Almost everyone else around here is too uptight. And he did know who. That would be the girl he was going around with for a year before she found herself enthralled with another fella. He winces a little and wipes his hands on his pants.

“Dustin you should probably leave them be. I’m over it at this point.”

“I mean yeah, you’ve been over this, but she deserves it. You barely come here anymore. And besides, I’m tired of seein’ her and Byers’ mushy…whatever. Eugh.” He complains, pulling a face. Steve had to laugh.

“That’s not why. I’ve been busy.” He protests, sighing at the calculating look Dustin shoots him, “_Ok Henderson_. Just watch yourself around the sheriff, alright? I don’t think he has any issues dragging a few little dunderheads off to the jailhouse.” He says, clapping Dustin on the back, “lead the way, kid.”

Dustin makes a noise of protest at the ‘kid’, but turns around to head back to home with Steve now in tow. It’s a small little place, with a shop at the bottom and an apartment on top. Cheap livings with a way to make money in one for a widow and her son. Beautiful fabrics ranging from cottons to wools to even satins decorate the shop space. Steve privately always loved coming in here, for the colors are hard to find anywhere else out in this dust ridden nightmare world. It’s always a breath of fresh air. Dustin’s Ma is toward the back, working her spindle wheel making a green something or other. She looks up at the sound of the door and gets up, smile upon her lips.

“Steve, darlin’! It’s been a while.”

“Hello Mrs. Henderson. Sorry ‘bout that, I’ve been keeping busy at the ranch. You know how it is.” Dustin mutters something disbelievingly about heartbreak. Steve shoots him a look. “One of our men _up and left_ so we’ve been extra worked for a couple of weeks now.” He takes his hat off politely and sets it on a hanger, raising his eyebrows pointedly at the boy. He turns back to Mrs. Henderson, “Didn’t even leave a warning. So. I heard you got a new shipment in?”

“Oh! Yes darlin’ you heard correct. And that’s just awful. Some folks just ain’t got any good work ethic these days. Feel free to have a look around.” She gestures to the rolls of fabric stacked in a corner. Dustin pushes on him impatiently and Steve smacks at his hands.

“Yes ma’am.” He makes his way over to the fabrics with his young friend a step behind. “Alright Dustin, what do you think looks romantic?”

“Romantic? Steve do you have something to tell me? Who is she? Why didn’t you mention-“

“Shut your trap, I _literally_ just said I don’t have much free time, lord have mercy. It’s for my Ma.” Steve interrupts.

“Oh.” Dustin slumps his shoulders. “Well in that case, I think this right here really brings out the pattern in this one-“ he then went into a good fifteen minute ramble on colors and textures and their place in his Ma’s love life, the little salesman. Steve smiled, thinking about how he was gonna try to make it back around town more often.

***

Steve leaves the shop with an armful of fabrics, an almost empty pocket, and a happy loudmouthed boy in step behind him.

“-and then the guy on the bull tossed me his hat! CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT STEVE? I’m the chosen one! One day that’s gonna be me riding on that bull. I’m gonna get so famous that girls won’t be able to-“ he crashes straight into Steve’s motionless back, “HEY! Wha- Steve?”

Steve doesn’t respond, but he grabs Dustin by the shoulder. Straight ahead in the middle of the road a crowd had gathered. A few men are shouting and whooping over the unmistakable sounds of fists making contact. He narrows his eyes. Fights aren’t really a commonplace in this little town, but they are known to break out from time to time when money or booze is involved. Steve sharply turns to head elsewhere, not wanting any trouble.

“Hey wait wait wait!” Dustin pulls against him, “this looks really interesting. Steve… I’m not saying we should check out what’s goin’ on. But,” he pauses dramatically, “_we should totally check out what’s goin’ on._”

“No, I don’t really think that’s a great idea. I think we should get you,” He points, “_safely_, to your friends. And then I will head home for dinner.”

“Aw come on! Don’t you think you could use a few pointers?”

Steve absolutely cannot believe the nerve on this kid. He doesn’t even know how to come back from that.

Dustin continues in his usual tactless manner, “I mean it’s like you don’t even wanna know how to fight. You’re a man! What are you gonna do when your wife needs you to deck some pervert? And do you remember when you got your ass handed to you by-“

“OK, DUSTIN! Jesus Christ. We’ll go take a look, but if I get one drop of blood on this fabric…” he trails off in warning.

Dustin smiles real big, showing off his lack of front teeth, “I won’t let that happen.”

Steve rolls his eyes, letting the little jerk lead him over to the edge of the misshapen circle of men. He pushes through slightly, just in time to watch ‘sorta familiar guy #1’ get thrown to the ground from a punch by ‘definitely not familiar guy #2’.

Guy #1 is someone Steve recognizes from the rodeos his Pa is famous around here for. The guy was generally loud and usually drunk off his ass, but he isn’t in any circles Steve has ever been a part of. Guy #2 however, is a complete stranger. His long, dirty golden curls and tan skin rippling with visible muscle set him apart from most. He’s wearing really worn out clothes, pants torn in a couple places, leather boots about to crumble, and his shirt must be missing a few buttons, as it’s open to his naval. He’s currently scowling down at guy #1.

Guy #1 finally looks up, wiping blood from his lip, “I ain’t givin you _shit_, you miserable little swine.”

“Get up. I ain’t done wit you.” Guy #2 growls, kicking at the fallen man’s boot.

Guy #1 then makes a colossal mistake by saying, “suck a big one.” and spits on guy #2. Steve gets to watch, almost in slow motion, as guy #2’s face contorts itself from disgust to rage, before he throws himself onto the man.

Every punch lands brutally, snapping guy #1’s head from side to side as he’s futilely trying to block the beating. Guy #2 keeps at it while yelling his head off about winning and money, until fear is the only thing present on the other man’s increasingly bloody face.

_Oh my god, he’s going to kill him_. Was the last thing Steve managed to think before he was already thrusting the fabrics into Dustin’s arms and running to wrap his arms around guy #2 to pull him back from the bloody mess he had created.

***

In retrospect, it was a god-awful idea. One of his worst. But he couldn’t have just sat back and watched. If that man had died, it would have been another shitty thing to haunt him for the rest of his life. Steve didn’t need that resting on his conscious and neither did Dustin.

“Y’know, holdin’ your head back would slow the bleedin’ better,” a voice cuts through the silence from the cell next to his.

Steve looks up, catching the eyes of guy #2, the man who had given him the stupid bloody nose in the first place. He also had some fun bruising on his ribs from where the man had used his elbows to dislodge him. Steve choses to remain stoically silent and looks back to his feet. Luckily guy #2 gets the hint and shuts up.

About 10 minutes pass before sheriff Hopper comes into the room, clutching a roll in one hand and the jail keys in the other. He leans back against the wall, staring down on the stranger.

“What’s your name son.” He demands.

Guy #2 looks back at Hopper. Silence stretches and several emotions flit across his face before he reluctantly replies, “Billy. Billy Hargrove sir.”

“Alright. So, Billy.” The sheriff pauses to take a bite out of his roll. “Let me get this straight. You come into my town, play a few card games or whatever, and decide to be enough of a sore loser to fuck up a man’s face beyond recognition?”

Guy #2, or ‘Billy’, shifts a little on the bench he’s sat on, but manages to hold his stare. “No sir, he was the one who lost, I jus wanted my money-“

“HEY! I didn’t ask who won or who lost the stupid game.” Billy looks thoroughly uncomfortable. “Yeah that’s right. I don’t know where you’re from, but that excuse don’t fly around here in Hawkins Town. I could keep you locked up here a while if I wanted to, but as it’s your first offense,” Hopper begins unlocking Steve’s cell, “I’m thinkin’ I’ll leave it up to the injured party what I do with you.”

Steve stands up, giving him a questioning look and asking, “uh, am I in trouble sheriff Hopper?” The sheriff gives him a blank stare as his door swings open.

“You have no idea.” He says coldly. Steve’s heart drops to his ass. It must show on his face because Hopper starts laughing and slapping his knee. “God no Harrington. My daughter’s friend came by and told me what went down. Kid was a mess. You’re not in trouble. In fact, you’re ‘bout free to leave.”

Oh yeah. Of course Dustin had his back in this. He was gonna have to owe the kid a favor later. “About free, sir?”

“Yeah, You’re the injured party ain’t you?” Oh. _Oh_. Steve really thought he had been talking about guy #1 rather than him. Hopper continues, “You’re the only one I got conscious right now anyway.”

Steve glances over at the guy in the cell, Billy. He has his head tucked downwards in defeat; hands clasped tightly together. He feels a pang of pity for him. He’s young. His clothes really are just in tatters at this point, and he looks so worn out and dirty, like he hasn’t had a proper shower and change in at least a month. He really shouldn’t feel sorry, but he can’t help but be reminded of a time when he probably looked a similar state.

Steve sighs and looks back at the sheriff. “Let him go.” He sees Billy’s head snap in his direction out of the corner of his eye.

Hopper raises his eyebrows and finishes off his roll. “You sure, Steve?”

Steve jerks his head to a corner further away from Billy and walks over with the sheriff in tow. In a low voice with his back turned to the cells, he says, “And give him this.” He pulls the remaining coins from his pocket. “It should get him a few a few nights at an inn.”

Hopper stares at him for a bit, his eyes not betraying his thoughts, before he takes the money. “You know, you’re a great guy Steve. A hero, some would say.” He takes breath. “But just know you don’t gotta be to everyone. This guy here? I can tell you pretty confidently that he wouldn’t do the same for you.”

Steve nods and shuffles his feet a little. “I know.” He tips his hat. “I’ll see you around sheriff.” And walks out the door. Dustin is waiting outside for him.

“OH MY GOD! STEVE! ARE YOU OK?”

“Jesus Dustin don’t yell. I’m like, 5 feet away.”

“_Oh sorry!_” He moves to a whisper yell. “_Are you ok?! Your eye is purple!_”

Steve reaches up and feels the tender swollen skin around his eye. It hurts. At least his nose wasn’t bleeding. “Yeah I’m ok.”

Dustin immediately looks relieved and says in his normal voice, “Ok that’s a relief. I thought for sure you were gonna die there, Steve.” It’s a real confidence boost. He shifts the fabrics Steve just now notices he’s holding to one arm and points. “On another note, check out that horse.” Steve does look and his eyes widen.

Standing there is the most gorgeous stallion he’s ever seen. It’s an Arabian, with not a speck of another color other than black. His coat is glossy and well cared for and there’s braids in his mane. It’s undoubtedly a finer horse than all of his father’s. The only thing ruining the image is the torn up very used saddle. Steve cautiously walks over and holds out his hand in greeting.

“Careful. He’s a biter.”

Steve whips around at the voice. It’s that Billy guy, leaning against the doorway.

“Uuuhh..” Steve says smartly. The guy takes that as an invite to get in his personal space, brow all furrowed. Steve distantly notices he has a ring through his ear.

The guy says, completely unwarranted, in a real low voice, “Listen up. I don’t need yer damn charity pity money. I know it was you, not that sheriff, and I’m gonna keep it as the payment yer fuckin’ lyin’, cheatin’ friend owes me. Stay outta my way from here on out, ok darlin’?” He goes to hop on his horse.

Steve feels his ears start ringing. Oh he is mad. So mad. How dare this shitty excuse for a cowboy throw his generosity back in his face.

“Hey! You don’t get to talk to me like that!” Steve spits out. “Next time you end up in jail, _and there will be a next time_, there’s not gonna be a bail. No one is gonna want to deal with your shit. You will rot. Have a good life.”

Billy looks down at him from his horse, something behind the bored front he’s putting on, and snorts, spurring his horse away.

“Wow. What an asshole.” Dustin pipes up from next to him. Steve is inclined to agree. Through his anger though, he thinks about the braids in the horse’s hair and wonders if the horse had been stolen from a wealthy lady.


End file.
